


Willingly, I Take Whatever You Have to Give

by Nayarit



Category: Twilight
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Dark, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lemons, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-16
Updated: 2011-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:24:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nayarit/pseuds/Nayarit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of 1921 happened differently. And it's changed everything and affected Carlisle, Edward, and Esme in a way that none of them expected . . . least of all Carlisle. Very dark, very OOC, AU-VAMP, with a little lemonade. Told through Esme's eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our Present

**Author's Note:**

>   
> 
> 
>   
>  Hola chicos!
> 
> I wrote this one a LONG time ago. Actually it was the first fanfiction I ever wrote, but I was a total loser and too scared to put it out there. It's a Carlisle one because I lurve him SO much. It's a four part one-shot and complete so I'll upload the other parts every day or every other day. Won't have to wait too long for this one!
> 
>  **  
>  **Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement intended.**  
> **

The fierce sting of the hard metal tore through the air. A sound that one could never imagine; well, a human could never imagine. There was something much more sinister about how fast a vampire hand swinging an object through the air could be than that of the molasses paced human's efforts. But when that swing, that object, that . . . motivation was to scar the recipient, there was no greater pain.

And I knew pain.

Pain was my only solace in this life, but it was also his only solace as well.

It took a lot to hurt a vampire, but even more to _scar_ one. The blows, the cuts, the burns, they would kill any mere mortal. But I was immortal and therefore my suffering was _distinct._

An ominous, deeply, ferocious growl behind me stirred me from my inner thoughts. He didn't find it the slightest bit amusing that I was able to _escape_ my punishments. His punishments. The wrought iron that he firmly gripped lashed quicker and in consecutive repetition at my bare back. I yelped out in pure agony as my spine vibrated, causing my entire body to quake against the bolder I was laid across.

As the lashes continued, deeper and deeper, each one more painful than the last, I felt a warm stream of wetness across my back from where I was exposed to him. Vampires did not bleed and it felt as if the warm wetness fell from above me, from him. The warm wetness fell as if it was a small rain, but we were indoors.

Tears.

They were his tears.

I have never cried. It was believed that vampires could not cry, but I have seen him cry before. This, and this alone, has become my salvation. My glimmer of hope. The pain, the immense pain, that he must be going through to physically produce tears, something that no other of our kind can, was an even worse form of torture. His tears were always silent; _he_ was always silent.

He would refuse any the right to know him or his pains. He refused himself the right to know what charred his very soul. This was why he would no longer face me for our punishments, and I think I prefer it that way. I could take whatever physical torture he inflicted upon me, but the sight of him broken and lost was an agony worse than any describable. One that I cared never to know.

Another dark _zip_ , so glacial that I felt the burn of its pain long before the beam tore through my undead flesh, screamed through the air. The extreme impact of it told me that this would be his final blow.

"Leave my sight," he spat darkly, as he pushed with his leg at my withered body from on top the bolder.

Crawling and broken on the floor, I squirmed for the exit and hasted to my feet. I ran as quickly as my destroyed body could take me. Once in my room I shut the door just as I heard the vicious slam of another door.

He was leaving to hunt.

I went to the bathroom and stared silently at the mirror above the sink, the one that bore no reflection. I wondered what I would see looking back at me . . . who I would see. A picture of myself before my transformation flashed in my mind. A young woman with wavy caramel tresses, sparkling blue eyes, and a heart shaped face smiled lovingly at me. She was so _different_. I wondered if she matched the woman in the mirror now. Would I recognize this woman?

"She is beautiful," a velvet voice sang from behind me. I turned and looked into his compassionate and loving golden eyes.

"Edward," I quaked. "You shouldn't sneak up behind me, not after I . . . ."

He tilted his disarrayed copper head at me, and I attempted a smile. Leaning against the frame of the door to my bathroom, he ran his left hand through his bronzed wilderness before resting it across his chest with the other, over his blue sweater. There was something always collected and calm about Edward, even when I knew that he was tortured inside. He held a regally beautiful air about him and I hoped that he could one day find the happiness that he deserved. He softly smirked at me as I stood in front of the mirror. I turned back to face the sink.

"You shouldn't get lost in your thoughts so vividly that you forget your bearing. You are the only vampire I know that can forget about the entire world around her. How you have managed not to be discovered all these years is beyond me." The sweet baritone of his voice always calmed my nerves and eased the ache in my soul.

"I have to escape in my thoughts, as you . . . ." I sighed.

Within the blink of a human eye he had closed the distance between us, and I felt the strong pull of his two cold arms as they wrapped a soft towel around my quivering naked body from behind. I felt the compassion in his embrace, and I wished even more for his happiness then. He was such a noble creature, even though he did not believe it. I grabbed the ends and pulled the towel tighter. He placed a chaste kiss on my delicate shoulder before withdrawing.

I turned around, but he was gone. Off to my right I heard the water of the bath running.

"Esme, you cannot continue to live in this manner. You deserve better as well. _She,_ the woman you so longingly search for in the mirror, deserves better. How can you continue to condemn yourself to such a fate? Please leave with me. We could go tonight, before he returns. He would never search for you. You know that he wants us to leave. I hear it all the time in his thoughts. His mind voices daily his desire to return and find you gone, wondering if this beating will be the one that sends you over and makes you leave him. We can be happy, could begin a new life," Edward pleaded, in front of me once more.

I knew Carlisle wished I left. But I could never leave him.

"Damn it Esme!" Edward yelled as he threw his hands in the air. "Stop thinking that!"

"I'm sorry but your hopes a worthless Edward. I won't leave him. I am all that he has. This is all my fault. I can never leave Carlisle." I walked up to Edward as I withdrew my left hand from underneath the towel and cupped his face gently.

I knew Edward cared deeply for me. He loved me as his mother. I imagined that if my son had survived he would be something like Edward. I knew that it destroyed him to watch me suffer. But the truth was that Edward understood nothing of my suffering. He may have been an older vampire than me, but the fact of the matter was, he was still but a young man of seventeen. He was a child.

Edward could never understand my reasoning and the ways of the world; experiences that only life could teach you and Edward had yet to live. He may have known Carlisle longer than I, but he had no known Carlisle like I had.

Gently tugging his chin, I gave a week and loving smile as I let go. My tender eyes pleaded with him silently. Placing my left hand back under the soft white towel, I turned to head toward the bath.

"I may not understand your reasons Esme, but you are wrong. I _know_ Carlisle, and that . . . **THAT** is _not_ Carlisle."

Without turning back, I stopped briefly and grabbed the towel tighter as I took an unnecessary and heavy breath. _Good night Edward. Please don't worry on my behalf. I hate that our pain hurts you as well._

I continued walking through the bathroom to the back as I heard Edward slam the door, cursing so quietly that a human would have missed it. But I hadn't.

..xx..

A warm bath was something I reveled in, a small pleasure that I still afforded myself. After my daily beating I welcomed the soothing nature and the ability to lose myself in thought. Unlike humans, I could spend countless hours in the water and never worry about what effects it would have on my skin. But better still, was the chance to stay underwater without breathing.

It was the most serene experience I have ever had. I was able to think freely there, somehow being submerged under the water diluted Edward's ability to read my mind. It was quite the discovery when we first realized it. He ran into the bathroom that day, fearing the worst – but still knowing a vampire could never drown – because he had lost the voice of my thoughts in his head. He had never been able to _not_ read someone's mind and so when he lost track of mine for some hours he grew terrified at what might have happened.

It was in my history to try to end my life, and I have always known that deep down Edward feared that I would try to end it once again. But he just doesn't understand. Underneath the warm water was my refuge from everything. And hours passed in this refuge of mine as I ran my hands softly across my beaten and broken body. Under the bubbled, I thought about my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******Thanks for reading!**
> 
>  **  
> **xxNaya**   
> **
> 
>  
> 
>  _Link to this story on FFN:<http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6412978/1/Willingly_I_Take_Whatever_You_Have_to_Give>_


	2. Our Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hola chicos!**
> 
>  **  
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement intended.**   
> **

I was a sixteen year-old human girl the first time I saw Carlisle; it was a different time then, back in 1911. Foolishly, I had decided to climb a tree outside my home on a whim. Somehow I lost my bearing and fell from the tree. Carlisle was a local doctor and treated the injury. Luckily there was no bloodshed in my injury, because – and I did not know this then – but Carlisle was a vampire.

He was strikingly gorgeous. I would never forget that first image of the man who would forever become a part of me. His pale, iridescent skin seemed to glisten as his cold hands worked quickly at examining my injury. When his soft golden eyes met mine my heart skipped a beat. I stared back into an intensity that coursed through me. An intensity that would haunt me always.

His strong jaw and soft features seemed pained as he removed his hand from my leg and ran it through his short golden hair. There was something off-putting about him, like the eternal rose with its thorns. The beauty and delicate nature lures you in, yet you still subliminally worry about the inevitable prick. This was my first interaction with him. I wanted so much to get closer, but something inside me warned of a danger that I was not aware of. A predator.

He told me that my leg was broken and that I would need it bandaged, but it would heal properly with care and maintenance. I remember him calling in a nurse to finish the bandage as well as his gallant exit before wishing me luck. This was the last time I thought I would ever see Carlisle, in person that was. He left town immediately after my injury. However, I dreamed of him nightly. No man had ever stirred me like he had, something in those intense eyes made me want nothing more than to touch him. Even after my marriage I couldn't stop thinking of Carlisle.

When I lost my infant son to a lung infection in 1921 I felt as if I had lost every reason for living. And so I decided that I would end my life. If the truth were told, my pregnancy was the only thing that kept bound to my husband, who was chosen for me by my own parents. Nothing but that small life growing inside of me mattered; and I knew its love long before I ever held him. I dreamed of singing to him while he sleeped, and playing with him as he grew older. I couldn't wait to get to know everything about my child. When I lost him, I lost every part of me.

In a haze of pain and desolation, I jumped off of a jagged cliff on the outskirts of our small city. The rest of my memories of the events after this are very vague. Most of the story was pieced together for me by Edward.

I was rushed to the hospital and treated by Dr. Carlisle Cullen. I elusively remember seeing that glorious face of my dreams. Thinking that this most certainly was death waiting on me, I spoke to the striking angelic face. I heard faint voices around me discussing my care. They stated that I had broken many bones and that my blood loss was substantial, but that with transfusions my outlook could be promising; I was a healthy young woman of twenty-six, and they hoped I could pull through. I focused only on the face above me, whose golden eyes bore into me with the same intensity they had ten years prior. However this time something about the way they drove into my soul was dark and I remember being so cold.

Then everything went black.

I awoke to tremendous pain; pain that I had never experienced before in my life; pain that seemed to have no end. My eyes would flutter and my veins pulsated. I felt as if I was being burned alive and couldn't escape. I could hear things in the distance with such clarity. Two voices: the voices of two men arguing was most prominent. I coughed out in agony and within an instant the voices were above me. I stared up at the strong face of a bronze-haired boy on my left and the soft face of my dreams on the right. The bronze-haired boy spoke, telling me who he was and what was happening to me.

I couldn't believe it. A vampire. I would become . . . I _was_ a vampire. The years following my "birth" sped by as if they were mere days. It wasn't until thirty years after my transformation that I discovered the truth about what had happened.

Apparently, vampires have a singer of sorts. A human they refer to as "la tua cantante". It was a human whose blood attracted the vampire like no other, completely and ferociously irresistible to them. The whole idea was believed to be a sort of phenomenon by Edward, but Carlisle knew better.

I was Carlisle's singer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> **Thanks for reading!**   
> **
> 
> **  
> **xxNaya**   
> **
> 
>  
> 
>  _Link to this story on FFN:<http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6412978/1/Willingly_I_Take_Whatever_You_Have_to_Give>_


	3. Our Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hola chicos!**
> 
>  **  
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement intended.**   
> **

When Carlisle first treated me back in 1911 he discovered that the phenomenon was indeed a reality; his own very sinister reality. Carlisle had always been the most compassionate and controlled of all vampires. He could resist any degree of human blood. Even during his newborn phase he had never fed on any human. He was different. He _wanted_ to be different. It was something instilled deep within him, a need to be better. And it was something that he would spend the rest of his life doing: proving that he wasn't just some soulless creature . . . that his life, even in the after, would have meaning.

Edward would tell me stories about how noble and righteous Carlisle was. How he had made Edward a vampire only in an effort to save his life. Carlisle valued human life above all else, and dedicated all his time to these efforts. Edward told me that Carlisle made Edward _want_ to be a better being. That if he were condemned to this life he could at least put it to good use, such as Carlisle had. Edward had said that Carlisle had never once fed on human blood, and cared not to ever know its flavor. Edward had always been in awe of Carlisle then, even when he would deny it. There was no creature on this planet better than Carlisle, no one being more understanding, loving, or compassionate.

Then, as Edward retells the story as it was told to him, seven years before Edward would be transformed in 1918, Carlisle had treated me due to a broken leg. As the story went, my blood called to Carlisle like he could never imagine. Carlisle had never yearned for blood before and the scent paralyzed his senses. The shook of this reality alone caused him to think unclearly. His venom, which had never flowed for a human, saturated his mouth. Every one of his senses became heightened and he prepared for the worst. He imagined a dozen different ways to take my life, and he thanked his good fortune that there was no open lacerations - bloodshed - then because he feared he would not be able to control his hunger. He immediately left town and prayed to never come in contact with me again.

But it seems that fate hadn't taken him far enough.

In 1921, the time of my fateful accident, three years after Carlisle had changed Edward, he changed me. The trauma room, filled with the aroma of my blood, intoxicated Carlisle and against every instinct of his, everything he had ever come to believe; everything he knew right or wrong with the world and what he was; he could not resist the lure my life held over him. He hated the twisted hand which fate had dealt him. If it wasn't for other doctors in the room he might have killed me completely. Although they couldn't stop him from biting, they did hinder him from finishing the meal, with their very lives. In a bloodlust-driven haze, to squelch their screams, Carlisle took five human lives that day . . . including my own. And it was that blood that now flowed through his viens, ran from his lips, and stained his very hands that would forever change him . . . change everything.

By the time he had finished with the others in the room the venom had already begun its course through my body.

The following thirty years I spent as a newborn vampire at Carlisle's side, experiencing life as what I thought was how Carlisle had always lived. Who Carlisle always was. Edward had run away from Carlisle shortly after my transformation for what he considered his "rebellious" phase. When Edward returned, what he found shocked and terrified him.

The Carlisle he knew was nowhere to be found.

The Carlisle Edward returned to fed off of human blood and was very violent, he had yet to inflict his violence upon me, but those days were fast approaching. This was when I learned of the real Carlisle, and it was Edward who helped me see that feeding from humans was not who we were. Through Edward I learned about the beauty and compassion that was Carlisle Cullen, the same man that had once starred in my human dreams. The man with the tender golden eyes . . . the ones that I longed for terribly to see once again.

Both Edward and I changed our lifestyles and feeding habits back to the old lifestyle that Carlisle embraced. We found a greater sense of peace in it. This newfound peace that was afforded to Edward and I enraged Carlisle further; he wanted nothing more than to return the vampire he once was, the vampire that now eluded him. I knew somewhere deep down inside Carlisle was still the same miraculous creature, and that he would find his way back to the compassion and serenity he longed for. I became engrossed in all the stories of Carlisle that Edward shared – how valiant, tender, and selfless he was. I craved for nothing more than to have him back as he was before.

Carlisle, however, deteriorated further with time. The closer Edward and I became, the more we found our own form of peace in this horrific life, the more Carlisle's rage grew. His violence now found its purchase with me. He blamed me for everything that had happened to him. He would constantly remind me of the man he was, the man he could be if I had never _sung_ to him.

I had changed everything.

This destroyed me. I hated that I was the reason the world was deprived of the noble and amazing creature that Carlisle once was and could have always been. I found myself sinking more and more into despair. Edward tried to convince me to leave with him, that Carlisle was a lost hope, but I simply couldn't. I begged Edward to leave instead, but the worse things between Carlisle and I became the more Edward swore he would never leave me alone with that monster. Carlisle enjoyed when Edward would try to intervene on my punishments, for Carlisle loathed that Edward was the vampire he wasn't and he rejoiced in any chance to take his fury out on him as well. However, long were the days since Edward would intervene because I would argue with him that I was strong enough to take whatever punishment was owed to me. Edward grew tired of our constant battles about what was _owed_ to me and what was not. Edward would never understand. I let Carlisle do to me whatever he needed to do to me to release his fury.

It killed me that Edward thought of Carlisle like this. He wasn't a monster; I knew better. I cared for Carlisle in a way that I could never explain and I owed him the chance to bring him back. That one experience years ago in a hospital room bonded us, and everything since was ours to share – the pain, the suffering . . . all of it. I would bring him back even if it were the last thing I spent my very tumultuous existence doing. I had to get Carlisle back.

..xx..

Two sinisterly cold hands shook me from my memories as they drove through the water in the tub and gripped me by the shoulders. Squirming through the painfully squeezing grip, I looked up around me. Blinking hazily to remove the water from my eyes, I realized with lightning speed that I was removed from the bath and was now in my bedroom once more. With a thunderous crash I was hurled at the wall.

Carlisle.

Writhing on the ground naked by the concrete wall, I looked up hesitantly into the tall threatening figure in the doorway. His menacing stance made him appear twelve times larger than he actually was and I trembled more at the realization that something was terribly wrong. My hands gripped at the carpet under me to crawl to some form of safety. I heard a piercing snarl and I immediately shot my head back up. When I met his stare the blood-red eyes that scorched through me told me all I needed to know.

Something _was_ terribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> **Thanks for reading!**   
> **
> 
> **  
> **xxNaya**   
> **
> 
>  
> 
>  _Link to this story on FFN:<http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6412978/1/Willingly_I_Take_Whatever_You_Have_to_Give>_


	4. Our Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Hola chicos!**
> 
>  **  
> **Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters. No copyright infringement intended.**   
> **

I stared back at those charring blood-red eyes as they cursed and condemned me, held me responsible for all that could have been and wasn't; and yet still he remained looming in the entryway. He wore only black pants and his bare, iridescent chest radiated the same fire I saw in his eyes. It was as if I was burning alive by just his presence. Its intensity, the aggressive rise and fall of his chest from unnecessary breaths, the tension in his face, and _that_ stare, all of it incapacitated me. I couldn't move. My mouth was dry and scraping as my fear rose; I was paralyzed under his malevolent energy and the heavy sounds of his intensely unnecessary breathing terrified me even more.

 _Why hasn't he moved? What is going to happen now?_

I swallowed the perpetual lump in my throat, its coarseness stung and clawed. With fearful eyes I watched the vicious creature in the doorway.

And even in my fear, some part of me stood tall. Rose to speak what I swore I would never forget: willingly, I take whatever you have to give.

As my mind reminded me of those words - my pledge, that no matter what I would right the wrong I started so long ago - my fear fell. It was never Carlisle that I feared; it was what he had become. What _I_ had turned him into. Never should I let him think that he was not something worth fighting for. I would spend my very last hour fighting for who he once was if I must. Some part of him knew and recognized that my strength, my willingness to never leave him, was my way of fighting for him. He knew. I saw it and the tears were my proof. They were small and rare, but because they were there I would continue to fight for him.

I had to bring him back.

My eyes looked back into his anger and loathe-filled eyes with a softness as I tried desperately to silently convey my determination. In the distance I heard the front door slam. Edward. _Please forgive me and try to understand_ , my mind thought, knowing he would hear me as he left to hunt, never being able to stay in the house as I subjected myself to whatever Carlisle needed. He despised how I fought for Carlisle and that I willingly let him beat everything out of me.

 _I give you everything I have,_ my mind returned to the dark creature in front of me.

His jaw tightened as he narrowed his glare and took a threatening step closer, one much too slow for any vampire. I knew what I must do.

Sitting back from my crawling position, I kneeled with my hands behind my back, waiting. I would submit myself to him, give him and welcome from him whatever he needed of me. My eyes closed as I tried to wrap myself in the clam strength that I would need to endure whatever may come. Extending my neck, I raised my head, exposing every ounce of me to him. Silence engulfed me as I prepared. With a final unnecesary breath, the calm readied me.

 _I willingly take whatever you have to give._

A thunderous pound caused my eyes to shoot open in shock and what I saw terrified me most. Carlisle had dropped to his knees so he too was kneeling. My body trembled. I didn't know what to expect. This had never happened before. The intensity in his eyes continued to burn through our stare as he growled.

"Get out! Leave!"

My eyes widened and I hesitated, completely at a loss. I had always done what Carlisle had said, but the power of his words told me that he didn't just mean the room this time. Defeated, his head dropped and I could hear his unnecessary, labored breaths. The way his head fell, his chin to his chest was as if the world had crashed upon it and he could no longer take the weight of it. It was just too much . . . it was all _too_ much.

Then I saw it, it was small and hidden, but it was there. A tiny wet glisten streamed down his lowered cheeks.

I was consumed by the urge to touch him, to understand what was happening, to comfort this beautifully torn and lost creature. To let him know that his pain was my own. I wanted to be his solace; I needed to be. The urge, to be, to need, to feel was always there, but I could never touch Carlisle of my own free will. Although he could place his hands on me in any form he chooses at any time. My eyes ached as I stared at the broken and tormented creature in front of me.

There was so much guilt. It hung in the air like the stale sting of mold. It seeped from us both as sweat and soiled all that we were. And I felt that this once I wanted more than anything to have that guilt, that pain, all of it one. It was his and mine to share and I would share it completely. Maybe, if it came crashing together, everything we were, once the pieces lay broken - indecipherable between whose was which , it would be simpler to put back together.

Maybe it wouldn't.

It was a risk I was willing to take.

My fingertips radiated that same fire that he emanated and before my head had time to realize what had happened I was kneeling directly in front of him, at vampiric speed I placed myself before him. My fingertips inches from his bare chest, ghosting over the vibrating ache of his breath.

"Leave me," he hissed, not looking up, not looking for anything. My throat became a desert in which I couldn't find any moisture; by eyes burned with incapable tears.

Out of habit my breathing increased as I inched closer. Softly I placed those burning tips on his steel chest, the wave that passed through me was electrifying. If I had a heart beat it would have been erratic as the icy burn of him scorched me. Absently, I placed the whole palm on his strong chest, needing to have, to feel, more. I wanted my touch to warm him, to have him feel all that I felt.

Desperately, my eyes - my soul - searched him. His head was still down and I could only see his golden locks. I knew he saw my hand just as he felt it. Something came over me, something frantic and raw and vital, and I knew that this night would be very different from all the rest. Whatever was happening I would not stop it. He needed this, he needed me and I could never leave him. But more than that, I _needed_ this. I yearned even more to touch his face; to feel what his golden locks felt like under my grasp. To feel and have what has always haunted me but was denied to me time and time again. I wanted so much more of him and I didn't want to stop this, but I didn't know what would be too much either.

Simultaneously, his iron hand grabbed the wrist of my mine on his chest, while his other hand viciously yanked my still wet caramel hair, forcing me to stare at the ceiling of the room. If I had a heartbeat it would have jolted from the shock and a pressure would have built so great in my chest from the pain of all of it. My free hand dove into my hair and wrapped around his, trying to loosen his fierce grip.

"Leave me." It was so stale, but still seeped the same revulsion and anger. The authority and condemnation in those words were like fingers clawing on the flesh of my cheeks. Leaving my bleeding, they pulled the words out of me.

"I won't . . . ever," I coughed out the first words that came to my mind. The words pierced and I felt his teeth at my exposed neck. That guilt, the stale silence that was a cloud over us always, descended and engulfed us. I heard nothing. Not even the unnecessary breaths filled the air now. It all seemed dead, completely and utterly quiet. Then I heard it.

"You have killed me." It was but barely a whisper. I felt more the breath from those words on my neck than I heard them. And it sent tremors down my body, a tingle along my spine. Those words branded my skin. Forever I would wear that mark on my neck from where he spoke it: _I_ had done this to him.

"I know."

Never had I felt his lips against me before and it frightened me in a way I didn't even know that I could be frightened. But what jolted me the most was that this new fear excited me. His proximity excited me. My body reacted to this new fear in a very different way than it ever had. It was almost euphoric. Everything about him besieged me. So strong his presence around me that I could even taste him on my lips, licking them out of pure need. I have never been so close to him and now I wanted him even closer.

My bare chest was heaving at these new sensations and I arched my back more into him. When my supple breasts rubbed against the steel of his strong cold chest I couldn't help the moan that escaped me. A fire ignited and my cold, dead body suddenly began to heat all over, alit with a new life. I needed to have him touch me. I had no idea what was overcoming me, but every sensation terrified and exhilarated me at the same time.

He hissed and the vibrations against my neck made me push closer. More, I wanted more. He yanked my hair tighter and tore his teeth into my neck so hard that it would have crushed a human's throat.

"Carlisle . . . ." My dry throat burned as I spoke, it was a plea and promise all in one. I closed my eyes as he crashed me completely against his body to get better access to my throat. He bit harder, the pain it caused me made me to squirm against him, under his grasp. His body revolted, he wanted nothing more than to display physically all the torment inside. That was always the case with him. His punishments, his words, all of it was the only physical manifestation of all that went on inside.

But where his body screamed in hate, mine surged in something entirely different. I had been with a man before, my husband when I was a human. I recognized what was burning inside of me, but it had been _so_ long . . . and never like this.

It was all so new. Again Carlisle tore through my throat and I squirmed more to push him away or pull him closer. The pain and pleasure was an intoxicating mix. But it was my movement against his body that caused a very different reaction in him, a reaction that drove me to my limits.

His growing erection press up against my stomach and a gasp filled the room. I wasn't sure if it was his or mine.

Carlisle immediately stopped biting as he realized his reaction to me. He forcefully threw me to the ground as he looked down at his erection in disbelief and disdain. Then he sinisterly raised his head to stare at me with a new fire. The black eyes that stared back at me where not the blood-red ones that I was used to, these were the ones hunger. A very different kind of hunger.

My thighs clench and my breathing was erratic as I held that intense black stare. His stare bore into me and I couldn't tear way from it if I wanted to. So much was displayed in those eyes, but the lust and desire was what fueled me now. I would ignore the rest. None of that mattered this instant.

I lay on the carpet to my bedroom craving his next move. I have never wanted anything as bad as I wanted him in that moment. I wanted all of him, anything and everything he would give me. His lust for me glimpsed even deeper at a part of Carlisle I hadn't noticed before. A part that was obviously there, just buried deep. A new motivation rose in me as I gathered my strength.

With my right foot raised, I flicked my toes at the buttons to his black pants. The intensity of his incredulous eyes grew as he pounded that leg to the side next to his knees. I attempted with my other foot, this time rubbing the ball of my foot against the bulge in his pants, and with his free hand he grabbed that ankle too and pinned it down at his other side, opening me completely to him. I could feel my anticipation build in my core as I burned where I wanted him most. My body yearned and prepared for him. I had never been so exposed to him in this way and every inch of my body was alive with such a scorching blaze.

I craved his touch and his taste . . . I wanted all of him. My mouth watered. His grip of my ankles seared through my skin and sent waves of passion skating all along my body, my skin, my soul. And still those dark black eyes bore into me before sweeping across every inch of my bare flesh, devouring what he saw. His stare darted back to his growing erection and my yearning flesh as it rose for him. I licked my lips and his eyes narrowed on the action as his jaw trembled.

"What have you done?" he spat darkly. As if in some effort to stop what was growing inside of him, his hands crushed my ankles where he had them pinned. But he couldn't stop this, the desire, the lust . . . the _need._ His face was torn between what his body anticipated and what his head fought against. In unquenchable confusion he slammed my ankles more. I bucked up in shock as I cried out.

His eyes widened at my arch, exposing all of myself to him in a very different way. In a leap he was above me with both of my hands in one of his, pinned over my head. His chest was heaving above mine, his hot, intense breath washed over my face and his scent consumed me. Our clashing chests, moving in a frantic rhythm fused. And I felt my soul cry, the weight of him, literal and not, was so much.

His own desire won the silent battle and I internally rejoiced. Above me his head tilted down so that his stare met mine again, but quickly it was denied to me. And so my eyes swept over every inch of his face as he closed his stare. My gaze, like fingertips, trailed over his strong jaw as it still clenched in indescision and light lips as they trembeled, but they lingered in his soft golden hair as if they were caressing it. I wanted his stare . . . needed to meet it, to convey so much that words couldn't ever do. But for now this would suffice and I would savor it.

Abruptly, a tear reached my ears and I realized he tore off his pants with his other hand.

He pushed his pelvis down and I felt the tip of his erection at my wet entrance. My thoughts had come full circle. As everything in my mind screamed in harmon with what my body wanted most. He had given in and I sung in rejoice. _Oh, how I wanted this._ A moan grew inside of me at the feeling of his surrender and I let it escape me in a wanton breath. His growl matched it as he crushed my wrists more in his hand. I pushed my hips up, needing more friction. Needing him inside of me to quench my own hunger for him.

He bit down hard on my breast as he entered me forcefully. I moaned loudly as he thrust into me. My hips raised to match his intensity, to feel the burn our friction created, our desire. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him. Although he would never say it, I felt it. Every ounce of our passion radiated all around us and it submerged me. Carlisle let go of my breast and the searing pain of its release cause me to shake. Soon he stopped pounding his thrusts into me and instead took on a slow lascivious pace.

The sensation his erection made as it slowly penetrated me and filled me was immeasurable. I have never felt anything like this before; I never wanted it to end. But it was more than the satisfying strokes and it was the sense that we were finally whole. Broken and torn apart but together we were whole. The intensity as he moved above me and inside of me was something I never wanted to lose.

The pleasure was so intense it caused Carlisle to moan. My eyes shot open as I realized I had them closed this entire time. When I opened them I saw Carlisle above me, his head tilted down to meet my stare . . . finally.

I looked deeply into the black eyes of a man I longed to see for so long. Those eyes tried desperately to convey so much: the confusion, the need, the fear, the guilt, the lust. My eyes burned in response. If I could cry I would. There was a tenderness there, a tenderness that I haven't seen in decades, but one that I recognized immediately. Even though this time the eyes I willed for so long to see were black and not the golden ones, I knew them well. They were masked behind years of torment and I conveyed my understanding to him through mine – the only way I could. My hips moved with his, my body releasing to everything that he needed, my heart screaming from finally having what it needed to survive.

 _I give everything I have._

Our stare met only briefly before he closed his eyes and continued his rocking in and out of me.

I felt him tense and his thrusting quickened.

I continued to rock my body with his movements as the pleasure that he brought me coursed through me. His release filled me and the sensation, along with his carnal growls, brought me over the edge and I tightened around him with my own climax. The understanding that I had finally been able to give back what I had taken was everything I had ever hoped for and more. My satisfaction caused him to hiss more before he collapsed next to me, violently releasing my wrists.

Silently I smiled, completely sated in every single way, as I stared at the ceiling above me. Carlisle's deep pants as he fought to regain his control filled the room and I smiled more.

I didn't know what to do next or where this would leave us, but I did know that I wanted to touch him again. I wanted to touch him always and find those tender eyes, even if it was momentarily. My burning fingers ached once more. I realized that they would never get enough of the feel of his steel under them. I knew that all too soon this new experience, the moment, would be lost, but the fact of the matter was that there was a moment. And I had all the time in the world to wait for him.

I would bring him back.

**Author's Note:**

>  **  
> **Thanks for reading!**   
> **
> 
> **  
> **xxNaya**   
> **
> 
>  
> 
>  _Link to this story on FFN:<http://www.fanfiction.net/s/6412978/1/Willingly_I_Take_Whatever_You_Have_to_Give>_


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